


you look like my next mistake

by theheadgirl



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:51:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheadgirl/pseuds/theheadgirl
Summary: One dark night in New Orleans, a young vampire spots his prey.





	you look like my next mistake

In the darkness of the bar, she seems to glow. Platinum blonde hair, pale skin - not even the dark colors of her jacket and jeans can dampen her light.

From the corner, he watches her. His drink sits untouched in front of him, condensation collecting on the sides, dripping down and pooling onto the table. Absently, he draws his fingers along the moisture on the table, leaving twin streaks along the wood.

No one else in this place is nearly as captivating as she is. Tonight, it's got to be her. Tomorrow, he'll surely find another pretty face, but tonight, she's the one.

Against his will, his fangs extend, scraping the inside of his lips. With an effort, he retracts them. There's time for that later. If he comes on too strong, he might scare her off.

He gets up, glances at himself in the reflection from the window. He looks well put-together, handsome. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie a little askew. Successful but still able to relax.

“Hi.” He arrives at the chair next to her, rests his fingers lightly on the back. “Is this seat taken?”

She looks up at him, blue eyes large and crystalline. “No, but I'd like it to be.” She takes her purse from the top of the bar and slides it into her lap. He smiles and takes the offered seat.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

 “Thanks. Red wine. Merlot, if they have it.”

He catches the bartender's attention. “Merlot and an old-fashioned.”

The drinks arrive, and he hands her the wine glass. Their fingers brush.

“Your hands are cold,” she observes.

“Poor circulation,” he offers. _No_ circulation is more like it.

“Maybe a hot toddy next time.”

“I wouldn't mind a little heat,” he replies, and catches her eye. She smiles, ducking her head. “I'm Hans.”

“Elsa. Nice to meet you.”

“What brings you here? I don't think you're from New Orleans; I'd remember you.”

“No, just visiting. I've never been here before.” She eyes him. “So far it's been pleasant.”

“If there's anything I can do to assist, let me know.” He lifts the glass to his mouth and tilts it so he appears to take a sip and sets it back down.

“I think you're doing just fine.” She smiles, takes a drink of her wine. “So are you from around here?”

“Relatively new transplant. New York.”

“I love New York.” Elsa’s smile is bright and genuine. “Central Park at night is so beautiful.”

“One of my favorite places,” Hans agrees. “Sometimes I miss it, but New Orleans has its charms too.”

They chat - she orders another glass of wine, he a second old-fashioned - and as the bar continues to fill up, he leans over.

“Would you like to go somewhere else?”

“I thought you'd never ask.”

Hans waves down the bartender. “I'm covering her tab.” He hands over the cash.

“If I'd known, I would have gotten a better wine,” Elsa says. She glances at him through her lashes. “Would you like to go back to my hotel?”

“I'd love to, thanks.”

They start kissing in the cab back to the hotel, although part of Hans’ mind has to focus on keeping his fangs retracted for now. He only has to make it back to the hotel, then they can come out to play. The thought of bending her neck and sinking his fangs into her soft, pale skin makes him groan softly into the kiss. She pushes her tongue into his mouth and that shuts him up for the most part.

The cab driver has to cough three times to get their attention when they arrive.

“Oh, sorry,” Elsa says, not sounding particularly sorry at all. Hans pays the taxi driver and they hurry out, her hand warm in his. Through the lobby and into the elevator, where she gently touches his shoulders to get him to lean against the wall.

They almost miss the floor. Elsa pulls back and they go down the hall to her room, which she unlocks with a tap of her keycard. She gestures him through first, then closes the door behind her.

The deadbolt clicks shut.

Hans turns. “Elsa?”

She's leaning against the door and pushes off of it, smiling- but her smile has a distinctly … predatory cast.

“You haven't been honest with me,” she says, closing the distance between them. She wends her arms over his shoulders, pressing herself tightly against him.

“I'm sorry?”

“No need to be sorry.” Her fingers slide up the back of his neck and push, hard, at the base of his skull. Without his input, his fangs unsheathe, and he feels a frisson of fear down his spine. It's like she _knew -_ “Just be careful.”

Careful?

Elsa leans in. “You forgot to check the teeth.”

“What -”

She turns her head, and pain races through him as he realizes she's biting _him_ , as surely as he'd intended to bite her. Before he has time to think about it, the pain melts into unbelievable pleasure.

Hans knows the orgiastic pleasure of the bite. It's a high he loves to chase. Too, he remembers the mix of pain and pleasure and heat of being bitten.

He has never experienced it since being changed, and it is almost too much for him to take. Helpless, he clutches at her, feeling his knees tremble like water. His hips rock forward eagerly, seeking the friction he so desperately wants.

Elsa pulls back, her eyes glowing an inhuman blue, blood smeared across her porcelain skin.

“Get on the bed,” she orders him.

Weak with desire, Hans goes backwards. His preternatural grace keeps him from stumbling like a mortal, but it’s a close thing. His knees hit the bed and he sits, holding his arms out for Elsa.

“Clothes,” she says.

It only takes him a moment to understand her meaning, and he quickly undoes the buttons on his shirt and trousers, shimmying out of them, dropping them off the side of the bed. He is so hard it almost hurts, and she looks at him like he’s a particularly decadent cut of steak.

Which, honestly, isn’t that far off from the truth.

Elsa takes a moment to divest herself of her own sweater and jeans, then settles herself, naked, in Hans’ lap. She is so soft and warm, he can’t believe she’s not human. His hands roam over her skin, and judging by the soft mewls and gasps of pleasure he elicits from her, she’s far from opposed to his touch.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, catching her mouth. “How?” She nips at his lip, gentle.

“And you're so hard,” she replies, but doesn't answer his question. Her hand sneaks between them, taking a firm hold of his length, and he lets out a soft noise. She shifts, and the wetness and heat surrounding him is incredible.

“Elsa,” he murmurs. She adjusts herself on him, letting out a soft moan as she does so.

“How old are you?” she asks. Off his confused look, she clarifies, “Since you turned. How long?”

“Fifteen years.”

The only word to describe Elsa’s face is _delighted_. “You have so much to learn.” She punctuates her words with a wicked twist of her hips. “Have you ever drunk from one of your kind before?”

Hans shakes his head. Elsa holds her arm out, wrist bared.

“Go ahead,” she whispers. “Try.”

He moves, and even that small shift inside of her would be breathtaking, if he had breath to take. As it is, he stops, then starts, taking her slim wrist in one hand and biting at the smooth skin there. Her blood tastes different, even feels a little different in his mouth, and as he drinks, he finds himself thrusting into her, unable to completely control his body’s instincts. The sheerly vampiric pleasure of the bite, with the very human pleasure of coupling with a beautiful woman, is an addictive combination. Elsa moans, grinding herself against him, breasts soft against his chest, other hand curled firmly around the back of his neck.

As his thrusting grows faster, harder, she leans down and bites his neck. Somehow, the intense pain of the bite seems to intensify the pleasure of the rest of it, and when the pain slowly shifts, it -

_Oh_.

Hans isn’t sure if his body can still come like when he was human, or if there’s any sort of mechanism for release, or if this pleasure will continue building up stronger and stronger until his heart starts up again just so it can explode.

Neither of us need to breathe, he thinks, giddy with pleasure and endorphins. We could do this forever.

Frankly, that doesn’t sound like a bad way to spend eternity.

Elsa yanks her wrist away from him, but continues to ride him, her mouth still at his neck. Mouth free, Hans moans, desperate, meeting her thrusts with ones that might have hurt her if she’d been human.

It might be an orgasm. It might be a reaction from senses so overloaded that they shut down. Whatever it is, Hans clutches desperately at Elsa’s hips, utterly undone, and cries to the heavens. It seems that, for just a moment, everything goes black.

Elsa pulls back from his neck, taking her time slowing down, until she’s not moving, just sprawled in his lap. She shifts so he slides out of her, then kisses him. It starts out soft, but Hans can taste his blood combined with hers, and he deepens it, wanting more of that taste.

Elsa leans back from the kiss, looking like the cat that ate not only the canary, but the neighbor’s zebra finches.

“I like you,” she declares.

Hans laughs. “I think I love you.”

“You _think_ you love me?” Elsa asks. Her eyes twinkle. “That will never do.”

“Care to make a case for yourself?”

Elsa leans in, pressing her mouth to his in a long, heated kiss. Her fingers rake through his hair, a slight pain edging the pleasure as her nails press against his head.

“I've had a hundred and seventy years to practice, young man,” she breathes. “I think I'll acquit myself very well by sunrise.” With a gentle push, she sends him back onto the bed, both a promise and a reminder of her strength. He holds out his arms for her, and she comes down, claiming his mouth once again.

It's shaping up to be a very happy Halloween, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was actually inspired by a trip to Tokyo Disneyland, where the Halloween theme is "Welcome to a Spooky Land," where ghosts, goblins, and skeletons spookify the rides of Disneyland. Wouldn't it be fun to find vampires in New Orleans Square?
> 
> As always, they're not mine, just playing in the sandbox. Thanks for reading!


End file.
